Chapter 12

The horse had speed. I think it was the first time that the horse had ever been let loose to stretch her legs, and she was making up for all those years. I hung on tightly and just went along for the ride. Eventually the horse got winded. By that time we were past the lake, and halfway to the foothills. When she did start to slow down, I decided it was time to see how willing this animal was to be ridden.

I reined in gently until the horse came to a standstill. Then I turned her around, back the way we’d come. She didn’t resist me.

I’d spoken to a couple of the horse guards the night before, using Baylor as the translator. I had quickly learned from them, that the horses understood voice commands. It made leading the horses and controlling them that much easier. I learned what they were by feigning a little innocent curiosity. Baylor proved to be a cooperative translator, obviously wanting to earn points with his chief by doing a good job. So, with his help and that of one of the guards, I soon knew what the commands were. I even got to practice them a bit, with Baylor and one of the guards coaching me through what I was saying and doing. It didn’t take me long to catch on. I now used them to manoeuvre the horse about for a few moments before turning it back towards the encampment. I rode in at a canter kicking up dust and dirt, and causing a stir. My arrival was heralded with cheers and applause from those still standing about waiting upon my return. Chief amongst these people was Agar, his entourage, and my people. Gort was grinning happily as I dismounted and his wolf pup was kicking up a fuss.

I removed the bridle and unsaddled the mare before I turned the horse over to Gort. I ruffled his hair before letting him lead the animal back to where the rest of the Horse People kept their herd. I’d previously given him a five minute tutorial on the care and feeding of a horse. This time I simply reminded him to make sure the animal got water. Then I turned about to meet my appreciative audience. I found Chief Agar anxiously waiting to speak to me.

“Can you teach me to ride?” Agar asked me quickly and enthusiastically, using Baylor to translate his words.

“Are you ready to trade?” I asked in retort, smiling warmly as I did. The chief beamed in response to my question.

Agar was ready to trade. I wanted the bay. It was a very good horse and quite responsive, given the fact it had never been ridden before. The Horse People had done an excellent job training the animal. I hoped that they had done just as well with the rest of the herd. I had a good feeling that they had.

I told the chief that I wanted six horses. He shook his head and offered me two. I told Agar that I would teach him to ride a horse in exchange for the bay, and that I would give trade goods for three more. Agar wanted to see my trade goods. I had Vedic bring the pannier holding our trade goods to me.

I made a bit of a production of pulling the stuff out of the pannier. I certainly didn’t want Agar seeing everything that we had. I kept some of it in reserve for in case I needed to grease the wheels a little more to get what I really wanted. I offered up four stone axes, four collapsible camp stools, some wooden utensils, and two cat pelts. Of all the goods, the cat pelts were the best received. Several men, who were standing off to the side, murmured appreciatively when I pulled them out.

Agar took his time and thought about what I’d offered him. He spoke to his two advisors. They all hummed and hawed for a bit, and then they shook their heads no. Agar said that he would exchange the bay for lessons and two horses for the goods offered. Now it was my turn to hum and haw for a bit and to speak to my people. Three horses was all I really wanted from these people, today; however, Vedic had come along for some of their famous horsehair string. We definitely weren’t leaving without some of that.

I countered Agar’s offer; suggesting the bay for lessons, three extra horses and some of their string for all the goods. Agar refused. Instead he offered his original deal with some thread thrown in out of friendship. I agreed so long as one of the horses we took was a stallion. Agar agreed to that deal.

With the bargain made, it was time for a drink. God, I hated fermented mare’s milk!

I decided that lessons would start that afternoon. I had told Rugar that we’d be gone two weeks at least. Teaching Agar was going to push our return back by at least another five days, but it couldn’t be helped. I wanted to leave the Horse People as their friend!

I left Agar with a time for us to meet at the herd, to begin his lessons. I told him to bring his two brothers, and I’d teach them as well. That put a smile on Agar’s face and on his brothers’ faces, too. I had figured it would. True our deal had been to train only Agar, but I figured that training the brothers at the same time wouldn’t be such a big problem with a little help from my people. In the end, it would make Agar that much more willing to trade with me in the future. In this time and place I needed all the friends that I could get.

From the trading I went and fetched my horses from the herd. I took Baylor with me to make certain there wouldn’t be any problems. There wasn’t. In a matter of minutes, I had the big bay rounded up and two other horses that I’d picked out the night before. One was a dun mare, while the other was a black stallion with one white sock.

To my pleasant surprise when I went to get them, I found that the horses came with halters and lead ropes. The Horse People had gotten that far with their tack. Each horse had a neatly woven halter tied about its head, with a lead rope of braided rawhide attached to it. The only thing I needed to do was to hobble the animals once I got them to where my people were camped. I had one in my saddlebags for the mare. Once I had it hobbled I quickly made up a pair for the stallion and the other mare. It didn’t take me very long.

The hobbles came as a surprise to the young man helping me lead the horses. It was a revelation when he saw it. By the time I was ready to go start teaching Agar to ride, the lad was back with Baylor and another man. That man was Balto. He was an older man, and as I quickly learned he was in charge of the entire herd.

Balto was in his early thirties. He was a well built man, but he had a limp. Obviously he’d been hurt once upon a time and that injury had sidelined him. Fortunately the Horse People didn’t depend entirely on hunters to feed their population. Balto had clearly made a mark for himself in the tribe and was well respected.

I talked to Balto about the hobbles for a bit. Then we all headed over to where Agar and his two brothers were waiting. I apologized for making Agar wait, explaining that Balto wanted to know something. Agar accepted the apology gracefully. He then watched as I showed Balto how to make a makeshift hobble out of a length of rawhide. Even Agar was impressed. I then told Balto to come by our hearth later on and I’d show him how to make a more permanent one. That pleased both Agar and Balto to no end.

Teaching Agar was relatively easy, or it was up to a point. Getting the elderly chief up on the back of a horse was a problem. I only had the one saddle and since I was taking it with me, I decided that Agar was going to learn to ride bareback. I did suggest he put one of his mats to use as padding while he sat upon the horse. It worked, sort of ... at least, while I was leading the man around like he was a kid at the carnival. The horse cooperated so that worked out fine. I had explained to Agar that riding bareback was totally different than riding with a saddle, and that he needed to learn to keep his balance on the back of the horse. He had to use his thigh muscles to grip and keep his seat. Until he could do that, there would be no riding about at any speed faster than a walk. While I worked with Agar, Clara and Gabby worked with the two brothers. It was a slow process since we still needed to go through Baylor to give Agar or his brothers any kind of instructions.

It did progress, though. By the second day there, Agar and his brothers were all riding their horses without anyone leading them. Reins had been attached to the halter to help in guiding the mounts, which helped a bit. I also instructed them on using voice commands to get their animals moving and to get them to stop. Since they all knew the commands already they picked that part up quickly. The rest came with time. Slowly the three men improved.

By day three it was time to let the men experience the horses moving at something faster than a walk. This we did one man at a time. I tied a very long lead to the halter of Agar’s horse, and then I got some of the horse minders to sort of form a circle around the mount, Agar, and myself. I started Agar off at a walk getting him to ride the horse around the interior of the circle. After three or four laps I told him to go a little faster. While he went about the circle I stood in the centre of the circle anchoring the horse and hoping for the best.

It didn’t take long for Agar to tire of the constant jolting that the trot inflicted on his backside. I had him try a canter, but that was too much as well. He finally reined in and called it quits for the day. His brothers did similarly, having seen how much their big brother had suffered. I really couldn’t blame them.

“I want to try the saddle,” Agar declared before the day was through. “I want to see the difference.”

I let him try the saddle. He was still awkward on it. I adjusted the stirrups for him and helped him get a proper seat. We got the horse he was riding up to a canter and then we stopped for the day. When Agar got off his horse, he had another demand.

“I want a saddle,” Agar declared firmly. “What will it cost?”

“Time, and a lot of animal hides to make it for you,” I answered honestly. “I have only the one saddle. I can make another this winter and bring it back in the spring. I might even be able to make three saddles, but I can’t say for sure. We are short of skins at my cave, and it will take a lot to make three saddles properly. Perhaps you’d be better using a pad. That would take only a couple of skins each and some stuffing, like bird down or the hair of a sheep. Even cut grass would work for a while.”

“We will give you skins to make saddles for us,” Agar insisted. “We have many extra skins that are not needed. You can take the skins, make the saddles and then bring them back when the snow melts. If you do this I will give you one horse in exchange for each saddle.”

I thought about it for a few minutes, so that Agar knew I was taking his offer seriously. He’d already sold me on the idea by offering me the skins. Any excess could be used to make saddles for my two spare horses. The offer of a horse in exchange for each saddle was more than generous. Still I needed to give Agar the impression that I wasn’t an easy mark. I made him a counteroffer.

“I like your offer, Chief Agar,” I told the man, causing a smile to cross his lips, thinking he had gotten off easy, “but I would like it better if you threw in some more of that string you make from horse hairs. I’ll need to make reins and a bridle for each horse. I’ll need more than what I traded for.”

Agar agreed. His ass was sore, but having been up on the back of a horse had made his day and he wanted to do it again. He figured saddles would help make it more comfortable. It would, once he became more adept at riding. I didn’t tell him that, I just agreed. Then we drank on it. I still hated fermented mare’s milk, even after the second try!

Not every moment of my time was spent training Agar and his two brothers. They had other business to attend to throughout the day. In addition, to be truthful, sitting on the back of a horse for more than a couple of hours with only a woven mat between your ass and the animal’s back can get tiring. We spread the lessons out so there was a lesson in the morning and then one in the afternoon. That gave time for me and my people to meet the Horse People and to get to know them better.

My first real chance was the night after I’d made the trade with Agar. I got invited to a party. Agar was in a good mood after his afternoon of being up on the back of a horse. The old chief was a bit of a visionary. I could see it in his eyes. He actually saw the potential of what horse power could do for his people. I’m certain that if he’d seen me out earlier, on my bay, he would have asked me to become part of his tribe. I’d run down and shot an antelope from the saddle with my bow, bringing the dressed carcass back on the haunches of my horse. It became my people’s supper.

The Horse People were a male dominated society. Women didn’t attend the party. They were also divided into three social tiers. The hunters were the top tier, the horse handlers were the middle tier, and the widows and orphans were the bottom tier. The women of the bottom tier prepared the feast away from the central hearth and then sent their males children to serve us. It was a way for them to get the leftovers to help stretch their meagre food allotment a little further. The hunters ignored the boys.

I wasn’t there alone. I was allowed to bring Vedic along with me for company, but Clara, Gabby, and Gort had to stay at the campsite. It sort of pissed Clara off, but it just couldn’t be helped.

The party wasn’t much. We sat about the central hearth drinking fermented mare’s milk and telling stories. I was awarded the seat of honour. That put me right beside Agar with Baylor sitting on the other side of me doing most of the translation. The mare’s milk got passed around. I did the courteous thing and I took a sip and then I passed it on. After that people started telling stories. Naturally as the guest of honour, I had to tell mine.

I kept it simple at first. I told everyone that I was a stranger in a strange land and I was just finding my way by making friends and building a life for myself and my mates in a distant valley. Vedic didn’t let me get away with that spiel. He stood and told how I’d faced down a pack of charging hyenas, two bears, and the cats whose pelts that I’d traded that morning. Fortunately Vedic left out the part where I’d used a bow to do the dirty work, and not a thrusting spear. It still meant I needed to speak again and tell more about myself. Graciously, I did the best that I could. I thought I was finished, when Vedic brought up my women. I quickly came to the realization that Vedic liked fermented mare’s milk. Unfortunately, it loosened his tongue more than I would have liked. I paid him back by talking up his hunting skills. That put a smile on his face. It was well past midnight when I finally crawled into my bedding.

I did get to walk about and have a closer look at the encampment the next day. I was a bit of a celebrity, and Agar had shown me honour by seating me by his side. No one really took note of me as I moved about, learning what I could as I went.

The encampment was laid out in a hierarchical manner. The chief’s tepee dominated the centre of the camp as did the tepees belonging to his brothers and to the village shaman. I’d met the shaman the night before. He was old as well, like Agar, but a reasonably pleasant man. He’d had no role at the party the night before, except to pour the first cup of fermented milk and to bless it before passing it to Agar to drink. Once that had been accomplished, he hung up his magic and became ‘one of the boys’ at the fire. He did spend sometime chatting with me. He spoke Vedic’s language reasonably well. He thought I had a very powerful aura about me and that the spirits favoured me. I didn’t try and dissuade him.

In any case, the top dogs in the village pitched their tents near the chief’s tepee and the central hearth. The lower you were, the farther away from the fire your tent was situated. The quality and size of the tent mattered as well. The outer ring and those closest to the horses belonged to the horse guard and their families.

That was something Vedic had told me about on the walk to the encampment. The horse guard was essentially made up of men who’d been hurt hunting at some point or other and they couldn’t hunt any more. Vedic’s weaver friend had been one of them. It was also the place where the widows and orphans lived. I’d been warned away from it. While the Horse People didn’t abandon the sick, lame, or fatherless, they also didn’t treat them well.

I did see Balto there in front of his tent. His was the largest in the horse guard’s area. I greeted him and apologized for not seeing him last night. That was another thing that I’d learned at the party last night. Only hunters were invited. I stopped and spoke with him for a minute and made another appointment to meet up later in the day. He enthusiastically accepted the offer. Then I moved on. The hour of lessons was drawing near.

As I did myself, my people found ways to keep themselves busy when we weren’t involved in teaching Agar and his brothers to ride. Given our hosts customs and attitudes, some of us succeeded better than others.

Clara and Gabby had it the hardest, because they were women. For the most part, women in the Horse People stayed home. While they were with me there wasn’t much of a problem. It helped them a bit, having been seen working with Agar and his brothers during the lessons, but it didn’t help much when they tried to wander about unescorted.

It came to a head the morning of the third day when Clara spoke to a woman about her limp. She’d spotted the woman toting water from the stream to her tent and she’d approached her concerned for the woman’s health. Naturally, Gabby had been with her. The husband of the woman had taken immediate offense. Fortunately, commonsense and some quick politicking on my part ... and the fact I was six inches taller than the man, and thirty pounds heavier ... smoothed out the issue. Still, it meant that Clara and Gabby didn’t get to wander about as much as they would have liked.

While Clara and Gabby didn’t, Vedic did. Vedic was a male, and he was a hunter. He was known by many in the community. He was able to make the rounds of the encampment and to chat to his old acquaintances. While Vedic did that, Gort and his wolf pup went out and made a friend. I learned about the boy the second night we were there.

“His name is Bogdi,” Gort informed me over our evening meal, his words rolling out of him quickly as he told me what he wanted me to know. We were having stuffed birds baked in the coals of our fire pit. Gort had killed them that day. I had asked him about the birds and how his day was, since I’d been busy with Agar all day long. I hadn’t expected what Gort turned around and told me.